


Symphonie pour Amour

by CLASSICDUH



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:12:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CLASSICDUH/pseuds/CLASSICDUH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gustav, her father, has known for a long time how much Christine wants to be a singer and Erik is a high class music enthusiast, composer and practiced musician who regularly visits the opera where Christine spends most of her time trying to earn money for her father's sake. When he hears her sing, it's not only love at first sight, but an urge to get her lovely voice on stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Christine stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, smoothing down the edges of her dress to match the curve of the corset she wore. In the corner of the mirror she saw her father step into her room, then gently placing a hand on her shoulder, "You are so grown up, Little Lotte. You look just like your mother," Christine stared at the mirror into her brown eyes, then gazing at the flattering caramel colored curls framing her face - round and youthful as it was, "It's a shame we'll have to find you a husband soon."

"Must I marry, father? If I do, my husband wouldn't let me pursue my dreams of the stage."

"I'm sorry, Lotte. Your dreams are almost impossible. Especially in the era we live in. You must marry to carry my name."

"I am female, either way. It wouldn't work that way."

"I know, Christine," Gustav sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed. He looked to his violin in the hall and it seemed to hold all answers, "Would you like me to play you a song, Lotte? It always makes you feel better."

"I have to work, father. It's why I'm dressed in this," she played with the beige, boring garments she wore, wishing they could be the fabulous, sparkling gowns of the opera stars, "remember?"

"Yes I do," he was sad now, playing with the fabric of his trousers, "I only wish my salary was enough for us both."

"You need a break, father. You are getting much too old for such strenuous work. Come," she gently patted his shoulders, helping him towards the bedroom, "you need more rest. No more than two hours, father, alright?"

"Maybe you should marry. You're already mothering."

"Oh, father," she laughed, taking her hair up into a bun, "Please rest. Just for me."

"Oh, alright. But remember, we're looking tomorrow night at the Masquerade."

"I know. I have my gown set for the occasion," she glanced at the clock on the wall, a gasp escaping her lips, "Oh, dear! I have to go. See you when I get home."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Erik was lonesome in his mansion of Rouen. He knew he would be a bachelor forever, but he still had courage enough to be out in the world. He was a man of his late thirties and was, among other words, hideous. He kept his horrible face hidden by a mask fashioned by himself - even his home, in fact, was fashioned by himself. Built away from society and all their bias and hatred.

He took this day to visit the Palais Garnier, to deliver a score he had been arranging for months. They thoroughly enjoyed his music, as they always did, and sent it to the maestro for the orchestra and chorus to rehearse.

Erik stood in the hallway beside the music room to hear the orchestra play his lovely melodies. He wished for some reason the diva playing his lead was more passionate. Either that or vivacious or pure in her voice. And suddenly, from a few feet away, he heard the singing of a woman so grand that it had him searching for it. He looked behind him to see a young girl, maybe eighteen years old, put clothing in her bin and sing all the while.

She not only had the lovely voice belonging to an angel, but she was too beautiful. Her soft, round features, womanly as could be, made the voice belong to her. Erik knew at that moment that he had to have her. So he could put her lovely song on stage and cherish her forever. The Masquerade was the perfect opportunity for such a meeting. All he must do is meet her mother and ask for her hand and, considering he was obviously much more wealthy than the girl, how could her parents refuse?

Christine ceased her song, due to a strange feeling that someone watched her. She looked up from her bin to see a strange man standing in the hall beside the orchestra room. As soon as she saw him was as soon as he disappeared and she shook it off as an apparition. Christine rolled her bin to the laundry scrubbing area, taking out the opera divas delicates first. She gently scrubbed the clothing on the rack, dumping in baking soda for cleansing.

Christine grew tired of this work fast, she always had, and before she hung three clean delicates on the wire, all the candles in the room blew out. Scared, she set the clothes on the line and searched around for her matches, "Who's there?" she felt around and found her small table, searching for the second drawer where she kept her matches, "This isn't funny. Show yourself."

As soon she spoke the hard form of a person pressed against her body and she gasped, backing away. Christine finally found her drawer and took out a match, striking it on the box. There was no one around. She lit a candle, then blew out the match - therefore deciding to wrap up her day.

Christine rushed out of the laundry room, setting her apron aside and grabbing her cloak which hung on the wall. She saw Meg out the corner of her eye as she rushed to her, her blonde curls bouncing around her cheeks, "What's wrong, Christine? You seem so flustered."

"Well there was a," Christine realized how ridiculous it must sound to say that an apparition was following her around and touching her in weird ways, so she stopped, "never mind. Good day to you, Meg."

"And you as well, Christine."

As Christine left the area, Erik came out from behind the curtain, earning a soft glance from Meg. He knew his wealth made him a worthy husband, but to be looked at in such ways was strange due to his insecurities.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine paid the coachmen with five francs and they went galloping away as soon as they had money. As she approached her home, she heard two male voices - one that belonged to her father and another that belonged to someone completely different. She sighed, opening the door to be bowed at by a gentleman in a burgundy suit. Christine did not recognize this man and she was utterly confused, but then remembered her duty to marry.

The gentleman had soft features and familiar blue eyes similar to the sea she remembered playing in as a girl. His hair was of sandy color and, as her father spoke, he was very respectful, "Christine, who would have guessed? Do you remember this young lad?"

"No. I don't recall."

The gentleman smiled, bowing once again to give her hand a firm kiss, "Raoul de Chagny. I know you will recall with my name."

Christine smiled then, remembering their childhood love. She gave him a tight hug, only to be split by her father's sarcastic cough, "The de Chagny boy will be staying for dinner, Christine. He is going to the Masquerade tomorrow night, as well."

Christine followed the two men to the dining table, taking her seat. They followed after her and all began in prayer. A blessing for the food, for the company, and for the future. The food, prepared by Gustav, was a simple meal consisting of the simple grain, meat and green. After a bite or two, Christine gently asked, "How did you find us, Raoul?"

"Well," he carefully set down his fork, then patting his mouth with the napkin that was in his lap only a moment ago, "I saw you at the opera and thought about how familiar you were to me. Now I have had déjà vu before, but none that strong. I asked around, found out your name, discovered your home, and now here I am."

She smiled, setting her fork aside, "You have many ways, don't you?"

"Indeed," he nodded.

Gustav smiled at them both, then thinking of something that struck in his mind - her marriage. She must be married within a few months or no soul would dare take her, "So what are your intentions with my daughter, Monsieur? Are you very intrigued by her?"

Raoul let out a small chuckle, "I must say she does catch one's eye, but my intentions are pure. I just couldn't resist seeing an old friend. Unless something may happen tomorrow night, which is possible."

Gustav smiled, then taking in his food again. The table was awkward from then on, only the sound of chewing breaking silence. Christine set her silverware on the plate, patted her mouth with the napkin and then laid it on top of her dish. The men slowly stopped eating, Gustav especially. He stared at Raoul for a moment, then stood up to speak, "I think it is time you leave, Monsieur de Chagny. It's getting rather late and my daughter must get her beauty rest for tomorrow night's occasion."

"Certainly," Raoul stood, bowing to Christine once again, "Good night, Mademoiselle. I hope you have a pleasant rest."

"I hope the same for you, Monsieur."

Butterflies stirred in her stomach as he kissed her hand one last time before going. She stood too, feeling the surge of blood rush through her body. The feelings she remembered once holding for him were all too familiar, "Christine?"

She turned to her father and felt her cheeks get hot, "Yes, father?"

He laughed, gently patting her shoulder, "Maybe it's wise you get to bed. You want to be your very best for the party tomorrow night."

"Yes, father. Goodnight."

He smiled, then gently kissed her forehead, "Goodnight, Little Lotte."

Christine traveled into her bedroom, feeling lighter than ever at the moment. She sighed as she shut the door, remembering the first ever time she kissed Raoul - rather passionately for such a person new that kind of affection. She stripped down to her chemise, placing her shoes beside the bed and laying down for a good night's rest.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Getting ready for the party was possibly the longest it ever took Christine to do anything. She wanted to be absolutely perfect tonight, to shine even brighter than the opera stars.

Gustav watched with patience as she applied a simple coat of makeup to her face, her complexion now perfect. She fluffed out her gown, the soft silk acting as static on her fingertips which were slightly moistened with her nervous coat of sweat. Christine ran into the kitchen and dipped her hands in the water basin, then patting dry with a towel. She looked at her fingertips, now perfect and dry, and returned to her father to gently ask the question of the night, "Well, how do I look?"

Gustav smiled, then stepped closer to have a better view. Christine was growing up so fast. It was like just yesterday she was born, "I suppose Little Lotte won't suit you anymore, will it? Oh, you look just like your mother. So beautiful. So grown."

Christine smiled, a blush filling her cheeks. She gave him a warm hug, but remembered the entire reason she was going to the party and let go, "I hope I make you proud."

"You will. There is no way you are leaving that party tonight without a suitor. You are much too beautiful to receive no attention."

Christine smiled at the compliment her father offered, practicing her gracious curtsy. Gustav answered her with a bow and they both set out towards the opera house.


	3. Chapter 3

Masque Bal de l'Opéra! It was the most extravagant party Christine had ever been to. The orchestra played the most lovely waltzes, all of the people were dressed from head to toe in sparkling, colorful suits and gowns, and Christine, although simple compared to some, was the catch of the party. She had all eyes as she walked among everyone, especially male, "Christine, you are the toast of the night! Not one person has avoided you."

Gustav was somewhat excited about this, his daughter was a worthy woman after all. Either that or she was just someone's love toy, "May I find my friend, father?"

"She is female?"

"Of course."

"Alright. You may go. But be sure to take at least the second dance with a gentleman."

"I will. Thank you."

Christine saw Meg beside the staircase where the rich liked to be, wondering why she was always so close to their areas. She ran towards her friend, gently tapping her on the shoulder, "Oh, Christine! You gave me a fright!"

"I'm sorry."

Meg turned her attention to the top of the staircase where a gentleman dressed in blood-red garments slowly trailed downstairs. Christine noticed her friend in a strange state, her hand placed upon her cheek and her eyes lit up, "Are you well, Meg?"

"What? Oh, sure," she sighed as the man turned away from the two, almost too fast, "Oh, those eyes. You know Monsieur Muhlheim, right?"

"Not in the least."

"They say there's something hidden under that mask. That's its so horrible it made a girl die from just looking at it," Meg was a smitten mess, then shook her head, "But he also has feelings for someone. Or so he says."

"You fall in love with every man you see, Meg. I'm sure you'll get over-"

"Alright!" Manager of the opera house, Gilles Andrè, was now a drunken fool. Christine wondered why they had chosen him to be announcing tonight, "This is a switch dance for the ladies and gentlemen. Find a partner, though it won't be your only."

Christine smiled when Raoul approached her, addressing him with a curtsy, "May I have this dance?"

She smiled, "Certainly, Monsieur."

The music began just as they took places, Christine holding Raoul's hand at an angle with his other firmly rested on her waist. Together they spun across the floor, like two tops, gracefully twirling around each other, "So your father is trying to find a husband for you tonight?"

"Yes. He-" she grunted as he stepped on her toe.

"Sorry. I am not a very good dancer. I'm afraid I lack rhythm."

Christine noticed only very few with those issues, then found herself being spun into another man's arms. The man she danced with stared at her with a fiery passion to match his bright red hair. He looked appreciatively at her chest and she suddenly felt naked, "Everyone's been watching you tonight. Now I know why. You have some very nice-"

"Excuse me, Monsieur," Christine would have said something to protect herself, but a strange, melodic voice interrupted him, "Might I dance with her?"

Christine was face to face with the mysterious man dressed in blood-red attire, adjusting her gown to cover up more which just wouldn't happen. The fiery-haired man nodded silently, stepping away.

Christine found it hard to breathe as the gentleman bent down to kiss her hand before taking it into his for the dance. She swallowed, trying to find courage to speak to him, "Mon-Monsieur Muhlheim?"

"Well, that is my last name," his opposite hand, ice cold like the other, gently grasped her waist with such gentle pressure that she almost shivered out of her skin, "but you may call me Erik, Mademoiselle...Christine, I believe?"

She nodded slowly as he spun with her so precisely. Each of his steps seemed to be carefully measured out as he trailed with her across the dance floor. Every second with him seemed to be a lifetime and soon, it was as if they were the only two in the room. She thought about how wrong that must be - to feel so secluded with one person that they were practically the only one to exist.

Christine heard the music stop and quickly let go of his hands, remembering only her duty to marry. She gave him a curtsy, then rushed towards the balcony awning where she saw her father. Gustav smiled, as he had seen the display between Christine and Monsieur Muhlheim, "That was a rather passionate dance, Christine. Any luck between you two?"

"Father, I," she realized that Erik was coming towards them and covered her mouth to prevent anything else from coming out.

"Have I interrupted anything here?" he asked very politely.

"Not at all," Gustav was intrigued by Erik. So much that he felt a need to share conversation with him, "Christine would you mind leaving us for a few minutes?"

She shook her head and went towards Meg, Gustav taking a moment to evaluate everything about the gentleman. His posture, the way he politely spoke to him just a few seconds ago, and his obvious sense of passion for Christine, "You are dressed rather extravagantly, Monsieur. Am I to believe you are blessed with wealth?"

"I am," Erik was gentle in his answer, not minding at all the question he asked, "Your daughter, is she?"

"Yes. Unfortunately her mother died when she was very young so I am the one to watch over her now."

Erik nodded, "Is she free?"

Gustav gently chuckled, nodding, "It's the whole reason we're here. Why, are you interested in her?"

"She is very appealing. But more so, she sings like an angel."

"I assume you are employed as a musician?"

"I am a musician, composer, and architect. But mainly a composer. I create the originals for the Garnier."

"Ah," Gustav knew it would be good for Christine to marry a man like him - wealthy, polite, and charming as he was, "You are a very nice gentleman. My daughter will be safe with you?"

"Why of course. Who could harm such a precious flower?"

Gustav, out of the corner of his eye, saw Christine slowly approaching. He smiled to her and waved her over, "Christine, I have some news."

"If it is the fact that Raoul just became engaged to my best friend, then I already know."

"No. But you do know Monsieur Muhlheim, is it?" both Erik and Christine nodded, Gustav continuing on, "Well, I have decided that he shall be your new fiancé."

Christine gasped, covering her mouth immediately to shield anything mean or nasty from coming out. She let go, "Father, please-"

"I'm sorry, Christine. But it will have to happen at some point and I do want to live to see my grandchildren."

"Grandchild-" she looked to Erik, suddenly feeling a strange surge of heat pounding through her.

Yes, she did have to marry, but she hadn't even began to think of bearing children yet. Christine shook her head, knowing this was probably going to be the longest night she would ever have.


	4. Chapter 4

Christine was with her father on the way to her fiancé's house, even though it was something she didn't truly want to do. Their carriage was already paid for by him and Christine, more nervous than ever, decided to show up in something very modest - especially compared to last night's attire. Her father, to contrast, was very happy for her, "It will be a nice change for our family. We've had a poor history for a very long time."

Christine didn't care for his wealth, knowing she could no longer chase her dreams and also had to be with the most ridiculed man in the country was not appealing, "I suppose."

Gustav noticed how upset she was on this subject, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, "I know you don't want to marry, Christine. But it is what has to happen. I can't do anything now."

"You could have said no."

"I'm thinking of you, dear!" Gustav had never been so harsh to her and he somewhat regretted it, "I don't want you to live in poverty for the rest of your life. I want you to have the best. And if it means marrying, then so be it."

Christine felt the carriage come to a stop, looking out the window to see this enormous palace-like home. She stepped outside, along with her father, and evaluated the exterior of the grand house. She noticed someone standing on the porch who came towards them, bowing to them both - the masked man himself, "With a house this large, you would think a servant would have brought us in."

Erik smiled, "I have five, but I find it more polite for the man of the house to let in such important guests," he said, looking to Christine with a strange smirk, "Come."

Christine followed him, along with her father, to the inside of his grand abode. The inside had a beautifully painted ceiling with two ivory statues on either side of a large staircase. The entire house smelled like vanilla extract, pleasing compared to other possible scents. Gustav was just amazed at such a different type of construction, "I'm assuming you built this?"

"Yes."

Christine couldn't help but be amazed. He not only constructed his own home, but he had a taste for artwork - all of which he created himself. All of society's suspicions suddenly left her mind as she let herself admire his pure elegance. She hung on every word he now said, "I don't usually have guests. Is there anything you want to do or see? I have practically everything at my fingertips."

Gustav smiled, "Well as you know, my daughter is an aspiring singer. Would you mind showing her the music room?"

"Alone?" Even Erik was nervous about that.

"Why not? You two must get acquainted, anyway. And I know she is much too pure to suggest anything strange."

Christine mouthed the word 'why' to her father before reluctantly following Erik down the left hall. She gulped as he opened the two larges doors to a room so beautiful it halted all of her worries. Christine stepped inside and glanced at the wall painted to resemble staff paper. His piano was the largest she had ever seen - a concert grand. He smiled at her amazement for such a simple instrument, "You are used to smaller instruments, I take it?"

"I have seen pianos before, but none quite as large. And they are quite different compared to the violin my father plays."

"Your father plays?"

"Yes. I'm afraid he had to give up his dream to be in the pit, but he is still very good at it."

The room was now silent as Christine looked over the sheet music folders on his piano, one in particular catching her eye. Il Muto, the greatest opera the Garnier ever put on, "Wait, you are the composer?"

He laughed, "Yes," Christine smiled, unable to control her joy, "Your father told me last night that you dream to be a singer, right?"

"I have. But I thought my dream is futile since I must marry you."

"I hold power in the opera house and I have heard you sing once. With proper training your voice can reach heights no one else has reached ever before."

"What are you saying?"

"I can teach you how to master your voice."

Christine was somewhat elated. Her dream might become reality under the arm of this man who she once thought was too controlling to let her do such a thing. She held herself together as he came closer, gently touching her cheek, "When we're finally married, you don't have to touch me. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

Christine felt nothing but respect for him, but then was also curious, "Why do you wear a mask?" he let go of her, turning around to shield himself from what he knew would soon come, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. Can you forgive-"

The rage in his expression when he faced her again was so much that she almost fainted, his grasp around her arms hot and hard, "If you ever ask again, I swear it will be the last thing you say!" Christine gulped, holding her tongue, "But I couldn't possibly harm you. So just don't ask and neither of us will be hurt."

"How would it hurt you?" There was an angry fire swirling in his eyes and if she wasn't female, he knew she wouldn't be alive any more, "I didn't mean it that way," she whispered, "Did something bad happen to you the last time you showed someone?"

"Yes. It's nothing you need to worry about, though," Erik saw how fearful she was of him and felt terribly sorry for causing it, "You should go home. I'll start training you next week."

He was so mysterious to her. Christine assumed he hid a lot of things from people, but to know that something bad had happened and to not know what it was made her feel just awful. She knew that, as his future wife, she would have to break through many times. No matter how scary or threatening he was.


	5. Chapter 5

Christine finished her hair, patting every last free strand into her up-do. She stared into the mirror, thinking about how fast she had grown from a pretty little girl to the beautiful young woman people always said she was.

On a Saturday evening like this, and with nothing to do, she spent her time reading - Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Hugo, all of the great men. It was when she reached page five-hundred of 'War and Peace' that her father interrupted, "Your fiancé is here, Christine."

Christine inwardly groaned as she went, with the book into their small living room. There he stood, overlooking their home with a sense of peace, "You have a lovely home, Monsieur Daaè."

"Thank you. Would you like a drink, perhaps?"

"No. I just came here to ask Christine to dine with me."

"Truly, Monsieur, I appreciate your offer, but-"

"Oh, Christine," Gustav interrupted, "You must go. It's not good for you to just sit and read all day. Go on, put on something flattering."

Christine sighed heavily, placing her book aside and rushing into her room to put something nice on. She looked through her closet and pulled out a sparkly red dress she never thought of wearing due to the exposing nature of it. She took off her plain dress and replaced it with the red one, looking at herself in the mirror. She pulled apart her bun, which started to fall out of place anyway, and pulled two strands of hair away from her face and into a small clip in the back of her head.

Christine remembered the last time she went out with her hair down, when she was just fourteen, and wished that could be her age again. She stepped out of her room and her father, obviously surprised by her attire, nodded approvingly, "Alright, you two have fun. Come back no later than eleven."

"I'll have her home as soon as possible."

Christine followed him outside and beheld his beautiful carriage once again. He gently helped her inside, climbing in once she was settled. It rolled off slowly, on a path very familiar to her. Christine held her hands in her lap, keeping herself perfectly still. She gently asked, "Why are you trying to see me so much? We're already getting married."

"I just feel like it isn't fair to marry someone you barely know. You might as well get to know me before we spend the rest of our lives together," Christine realized he had a point, not arguing any further, "Besides, I want to know you more. I already know the basics. I want to explore you and find every lost, minor detail."

"You really are forward, Monsieur."

"Forward is better than awry. I will always be honest to you. Unlike most boys you would usually acquaint yourself with," Christine turned to face him, realizing that he was staring at her the whole time, "You're very beautiful with your hair down like that."

She couldn't say anything, so she kept it simple, "Thank you."

Erik scooted closer, starting to make her uncomfortable. Christine felt her breath hitch in her throat as he gently touched neck, trailing up to her jaw, and then resting on her chin. She shivered as his lips came very close to hers, feeling the strange need to cry when he didn't kiss her, "I apologize. Maybe after dinner."

Christine almost said something, but then the carriage came to a stop. When she stepped outside, they were in front of a restaurant that seemed like a completely different country. It was so colorful and as they approached a gentleman with a pamphlet of parchment, Erik politely said, "Table for two."

"We have it set up, Monsieur Muhlheim. And who is this lovely specimen?"

"My fiancé, Christine Daaè. And make sure your waiters don't behave the way they usually do. I want her to be comfortable."

"Yes, Monsieur. Follow me."

Christine followed the two into the restaurant. They were sat at a small booth in the back dressed with five candles and their food was already set out, "Let me know if you need anything else, Monsieur Muhlheim."

Christine stared at the many forks to the right of her plate, trying to figure it out, "I am not used to such elaborate dining."

"I figured as much. So the very small fork belongs to the mollusks, the second smallest to your greens, and the largest to meat and other items. It's really quite easy once you get accustomed to it."

She picked up the tiny fork and peeled out the meat from the shell, savoring the pungent taste, "For a man so thin, you sure know a lot about dining."

"I have a small passion for cooking. Even though I rarely eat what I make," Christine set aside the tiny fork, placing the second in her array of greens, "But as I said, I want to explore you. First of all, I seldom find a woman who reads good books. You have excellent taste."

"You have a lot of free time, don't you?"

"I'm afraid so. It's why I am so successful at what I do."

Christine nodded, putting down her fork after she swallowed a mouthful of greens, "I'm curious. How old are you?"

Erik grinned, knowing his seniority, "I'm thirty-eight. What are you? Eighteen?"

"Yes, actually," she ate another mouthful of greens, setting her fork aside and placing the large one on her fish, "So where are your parents? Surely a man of your wealth must have a good base."

Christine could tell she hit a sore spot on his heart, his expression was enough to understand that, "I never knew my father, but my mother," he set his fork aside and felt no longer hungry, gently pushing his plate away, "let's just say she despised me beyond reason."

"Is it because of," he gave a firm glare and she could tell it was exactly because of what she would ask, "I'm sorry. I just don't understand."

"You never will unless you see me. And I can't let that happen."

Christine nodded, standing up to signal she was done as well. Erik gently took her hand and guided her outside towards the carriage, in which they sat until it began to roll again. Christine looked to him and noticed his pure silence, how angry he was. She didn't know if it was towards her, or to the world, "Erik, is it?" he nodded and she knew it was all she would receive at the moment, "Look, I'm truly sorry that I asked again. If there is a way I can make up for it, I will."

"It's not your fault," he sighed, "You have a right to be curious and I just don't deal well with rejection."

She gently pulled him towards her and whispered, "No, it is my fault. You need your privacy and I should," She remembered something Meg said about him at the Masquerade - 'Oh, those eyes!'

Now she knew exactly what she was talking about as she looked up at his bright green orbs. They seemed to swirl - to surround her in a blanket of colorful warmth. She felt her lips part subtly and didn't care, just stared into his eyes with no worry, "Christine?"

His voice broke her and she realized the carriage had stopped. Christine felt so strange, weird sensations tingled throughout her body as she stepped outside, Erik along with her. She stepped up to the porch only to find herself being gently surrounded in his arms. She let it happen, though. Looking into his eyes again as he let go.

She shivered as his hand gently slid up to her chin, tilting her head back a fraction. Christine felt the heat of his mouth come closer and closer until she felt his rough flesh caress hers. She sighed into him and let it all happen, until he abruptly pulled away, "I think we've had enough excitement for one night," he said looking to his pocket-watch, "You should go inside. Your father is waiting."

Christine watched as he left into the carriage, her cheeks burning hot. She slowly walked inside, not noticing her father beside her until he spoke, "Just on time," he added, "Christine, you're a blushing mess!" his soft, warm fingers touched the edge of her jaw and she finally saw her father, "Did something happen?"

She gulped, "Just a good night hug."


	6. Chapter 6

Christine spent her Sunday alone at church, a very strange thing to her now since her fiancé pushed her with affection and her father said he would keep constant watch on her after last night's blushing episode. She knelt before the crucifix, her hands together, whispering her final prayers and reciting parts of biblical scripture. She bowed her head, crossed her heart, then stood before it.

Christine admired the painting behind the crucifix, then bowed a second time before turning towards the door. She tied her bonnet back on as she stepped outside, deciding that a peaceful walk in the park would do her some good. Before she entered the fenced in area of the park, she felt a gentle hand squeeze her shoulder and gasped - turning around to find her fiancé again, "Oh, you frightened me so! Are you following me?"

He smiled, nodding, "Only today. I just wanted to give you something."

"If it's another one of those...those strange lip touchings, then I don't want it."

"No," he smiled childishly, holding her hands, "No, no. It's an item," he pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, letting her see the inside before he discarded the box and slipped the beautiful jewel onto her finger, "I bought a ring for you. I didn't know your exact measurement, but does it fit well?"

"It's perfect. But," she remembered last night and the day before, when she asked about what his face looks like, "why are you being so nice to me?"

"Do I have any reason to be mean to you?"

"I asked about your face, though. I thought you," he gently pressed his finger to her lips, earning a stare of confusion.

"I forgive you. I just...I can't let you see. Not yet."

"How bad is it that you have to hide yourself from everyone?"

Erik shook his head, knowing the consequences of showing her. She would probably never look at him the same way - never look at him as a person again, "Let's just say people liked to call me La Mort. Either way, I'll just leave you to your business."

Christine watched him trail off towards the direction of her home, where she should have been going, anyway, "Wait!"

Christine rushed for him, gently placing each of her hands on either side of his chest, "Where are you going?"

"Your father told me to visit your house today. I forgot why, but...Oh!"

"What?"

"He's preparing your things to move in with me. It's why I bought you the ring."

"Wait. So the marriage is-"

"He made arrangements and we're getting married on Friday. I know it's rather early, but he said he wants you to be protected by someone who is capable. Your father loves you very much."

Christine smiled, "I know he does. So I suppose this is already in progress?"

"Well, let us find out."

Christine followed down the narrow sidewalk to where her home was located, watching as her poor, old father loaded the carriage by himself. She felt a small burst of air and Erik began to lend a hand, lifting the heavier things onto the carriage. Christine joined the two gentleman, only to be told the usual - that she was too feminine and fragile to handle it.

It was a downing, but she waited patiently as the last thing was loaded on top. Erik nodded as the two coachmen tied everything up, giving Gustav a friendly hug and Christine a strange, flirtatious wink. She felt her cheeks become hot and her father, now teary-eyed, gave her the strongest embrace he ever had, "Oh, Christine. I never thought this day would come. But you're getting married! And to a brilliant man. And...oh, I'm going to miss you so much."

"What about you, father?" she asked, gently pushing him away, "How are you going to manage while I'm gone?"

"I'll think of something. The important thing is that you're safe and secure."

Erik grinned, pulling out a small envelope from his pocket, "Monsieur Daaè," he earned Gustav's attention rather quickly, handing him the envelope, "Consider it a gift. I want Christine to be with me knowing her family is well taken care of."

Gustav took the envelope cautiously, opening it to find five-thousand francs within. He gasped, giving Erik a quick hug, "Oh, are you sure? This is enough money to last the rest of my life!"

"I'm positive. I also want you to fulfill your dreams. Christine told me about your violin."

Gustav nodded, unable to get the bright smile he had off his face, "I am very proud to call you my son-in-law."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

When the carriage finally stopped at his home, the sun was beginning to set. Erik had two of his strongest servants bring in Christine's things and drop them exactly where she liked. She didn't have many things, but most of what she did have was bulky or just clothing - which would be replaced with nicer gowns by the time they were officially wed.

Christine finished enjoying a hot bath, something she never really had the opportunity to do as often at her old home. She relished in the feeling of clean hair and skin, smoothing over her body with sparkling hands. She finished her evening attire with a brand new nightgown Erik had tailored to fit her, and stepped out of the bathroom where she was then confused - where to go.

She then saw Erik hanging a new piece of art in the hall and decided to ask where she would stay, "Erik?"

"Yes, lovely?"

"Where am I going to sleep?"

He chuckled, "Now, or after we're married?"

"Well now, obviously."

He turned around, thinking for sure that she had seen his home before. He then remembered that she had only been downstairs and nodded at her reply, "I'll show you around the upstairs. But of course, you know where the bathroom is. And to the right of that is two empty rooms which I am undecided about what to do with. If we go down here," Christine followed Erik to the left side of the hall and opened a small door, "this is where you will stay until we are married," the room was very simple, with a bed made of wood and a small vanity dresser, "And then," Erik opened two large doors to the opposite of the smaller bedroom, each of them stepping inside for a better look, "this is the master bedroom."

Christine looked to the empty fireplace in the left corner, imagining the first warm winters she would have. His bed, made of fine cherry oak, was carved into the shape of two majestic swans with their necks twirled around another, just like in the artworks. He gently whispered into her ear and snaked an arm around her waist, "That will be our marital bed," Christine felt heat rush through her body and she knew she was now blushing the color of his scarlet sheets.

He let go, "Unless you don't want to do that, which is fine," Christine turned around, her cheeks still red hot, "Oh, I'm making you blush," his cold hand was a relief on her hot cheek and she leaned into him, "Could it be that you want those things to happen to you?"

Christine didn't know entirely what he meant when he said 'those things', but she read a few heady scenes in novels and only assumed what he meant. If 'those things' were going to happen to her, then she wanted it to be calm and romantic - unlike how it was portrayed in many novels, "Christine?"

She shook her head, staring up into his eyes and suddenly feeling a stirring need to let him have control. Something in her core made her shiver, and that shiver caused her legs to fail. Erik had her, though, and gently carried her to her temporary bedroom. When she felt the gentle pressure of the mattress and the soft touches his hands used on her skin, she was feeling at home, "Are you tired, pet?"

"Maybe a little. I just feel strange when you're close to me."

He smirked, shaking his head, "Maybe you have had a little too much excitement for tonight. I'll leave one candle on the vanity. If you need anything, just tell me."


	7. Chapter 7

A great thud frightened Christine and she shot out of the chair she sat in beside her bed. She gently smoothed down her gown and went towards the area the noise came from, cautiously and as quiet as possible. She peeked inside Erik's room, noticing it was only something a servant had dropped as they cleared out a small corner. But she didn't see him in there and decided to explore to find him.

She went downstairs, hearing soft chiming noises from what she knew had to be the piano. He was quite good from what she heard as she stepped into the music room, trying to keep herself composed. He was in a trance with the music and she decided to take advantage of this, ghosting her hands over his arms. He didn't notice her touch and she stared longingly at the white porcelain, wondering what laid beneath.

Christine knew it was stupid and that she should expect to be yelled later for such thoughts, but she didn't care. Carefully, she removed the mask from his face - seeing the horror of it all as he stood with an awful glare. The way he scowled at her made his features seem even worse and she fell to the floor pleading as he came very close to her. She set the mask aside, avoiding his eyes for fear of punishment, "Please, I am sorry! Please-"

His hand was rough on the back of her head as he forcefully yanked her from her kneeling position into one so very odd - where only her toes touched the floor. He was horrible, in face and in person, "I told you not yet. And you disobeyed me!"

"Please-"

Erik was beyond furious, "You don't have the right to speak. You are going to be my wife and since that is the case you will do exactly what I tell you!"

"Erik," she gasped, gently touching his hand, "Please! You're hurting me!"

He gaped at the bruises his hand had left, gently laying her on the ground. Christine looked up to him, her eyes cloudy with tears, "I apologize," he bowed to her level and replaced the mask onto his face, "I have no control over my anger. Just don't ever-"

Before he could finish his sentence she stood, rushing into the front room. Christine felt a gust of air behind her and gasped as his hands, gentle now, took each of her arms. He was in front now, his stare burning her like a flame, "Look," he closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, then removed his mask to look at her again, "you wanted to see?! This is the monstrous face that cost me love, kindness, and all other human care in the world! Alright?! This is why I barely speak to people and why I seem so mysterious!" Christine gulped, staring down at the floor beneath her feet - beautiful cherrywood, "We are getting married in two days, whether you want to or not. It's already been planned."

"So the rehearsal is-"

"Tomorrow. Yes," Christine lacked emotion, staring blankly as he put his mask back on, "Your father will be there with us. I trust you intend not to disappoint him."


	8. Chapter 8

Christine stared at the foot-length space between her and Erik as they rehearsed for their wedding, her focus on nothing but the words of the priest. She felt Erik slip the gold band around her finger after he said something very gently - something she didn't hear. She looked to her right, where the priest stood, and the old father shook his head, "Mademoiselle, you need to focus! You're being married tomorrow, alright?!"

"I'm sorry, good father. I was supposed to say?"

"I do! You are supposed to say 'I do'! It isn't that difficult!"

Christine gently bowed her head, then removed the band from her finger and placed it on the pillow. Erik did the same, following her as she went out in the entrance of the church. He stopped her mid-step as she attempted to get to the door, "I don't want to marry! Please! I'm not ready for this!"

"I know-"

"You know nothing!" Christine was astounded by what she said, but didn't care because it was what she thought at the moment, "I'm an eighteen-year-old girl! I'm not ready for this kind of commitment yet!"

"It is what you must do. Even if it isn't me, you'd have to be married to someone. It's just the way things work."

Christine knew it was the truth and she sighed, feeling the tears start to come to her eyes. She shook her head, then hearing soft footsteps from behind her and turning around to see her father with the violin case strapped onto his back, "Oh, Christine," he sighed, gently touching her face, "you're crying a storm. Has he made you?" he asked, pointing to Erik.

"No, father. I'm just not ready for this. It's so sudden. Please, don't make me marry. I can't! I haven't even been in love yet!"

"Such a beautiful thing, Christine," he softly kissed her forehead, "You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you this, but I wasn't in love with your mother when we were married, either. It took an entire year for me to realize that she was the most amazing woman any man could have. However, I'm sure this isn't the case with your fiancé. He seems to be very fond of you."

"If you and mother weren't in love for a year, then how did I come to be?"

Gustav felt heat rush to his cheeks and he gently shooed Erik away, taking a seat with her on the bench beside the door, "Since this is something you'll have to worry about tomorrow night, it's only right that I give you the basics. Well, on everyone's wedding night - including mine - the couple participates in a type of dance that can make children. And that's the only way it's acceptable to do that dance - with your husband to make children. Also, on the contrary, you don't need to be in love to do that."

"I'm so confused."

"I knew you would be, little Lotte. But you'll know what you're in for when it happens."

"Does it hurt? I heard some girls say things about pain."

Gustav tried not to completely scare her out of this, finding another way to describe it, "It's only a slight pinch. It can't hurt you all that much."

Christine nodded, looking down at her feet. Another question came to mind, "Does it feel nice after the pain?"

Gustav smiled, remembering several moments with Christine's mother where she enjoyed it so much she would stay awake for him to rejuvenate, "I don't know. I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself."

Christine was somewhat nervous for tomorrow night's events, her hands clasped together tightly with anticipation. She saw Erik come out and the priest go into his quarters, then stood to address him calmly. Though her father spoke for her instead, "She is better now. But as the policy states, I must take her home with me. I assume she has night clothes and the wedding gown in that bag?" Gustav pointed to the bag Erik was now holding.

Erik nodded, handing it to Gustav, "May I speak with her privately before you leave?"

"Of course. I'll be waiting just outside the front door," before leaving, Gustav gently kissed Christine's forehead, "It's going to be alright, little Lotte."

Christine gulped as her father left, somehow speechless now, "I lied and I am sorry. But we have to-"

"I know," Christine paused for a moment, then looked up to him, "my father told me about wedding nights."

"Oh," Erik felt heat course through his body, gently biting his lower lip, "Well, you know what to expect, then?"

"Not exactly. I'm still very confused."

Erik nodded and relief was immediate, "You'll understand when it actually happens. Anyway, you should get out to your father. I wouldn't want to keep him waiting longer than necessary."

"I suppose."

Christine waited for something, though she didn't know what exactly. She searched his eyes, then leapt forward to give him a hug. She could tell his surprise just by the way he responded to her, shakily wrapping his arms around her waist. She heard a small sigh come out of his mouth and let go, noticing the loving way he looked at her. Maybe she could teach herself to love him, "Your father is wrong."

She was surprised by him. He treated her father with such respect, "How so?"

"I am more than fond of you. I love you with every thread in my body. Even when you do the cruelest things to me. I know it seems silly to love that easily, but no one has ever given me as much hope as you have. So adieu, Christine," he smiled, gently kissing her hand and placing a fedora, from the cloak rack, on his head, "Until tomorrow."

She was speechless as he left, noticing the length of time she spent just staring at him. She felt her cheeks burn and knew she must have looked as red as a strawberry. Christine took her cloak from the rack and wrapped it around herself, going out to meet her father beside the carriage, "He sure makes you blush, doesn't he?"

"What?" she remembered the heat of her cheeks and smiled, "Oh, yes."

"Anyone else would think you're completely ready for marriage. You're already blushing scarlet around him."

She laughed as she stepped up into the carriage with her father, feeling the horses kick up to pace. Christine sighed at thoughts clouding her mind, wondering now what her husband looked like barely clothed. She shook her head, knowing it was wrong to wonder such things and it would damage her pure mind - a mind that was so hard to keep in a vulgar city like Paris, "Christine?!"

She turned to her father, "Yes?"

"I've been talking to you for the past five minutes. Did you hear me?"

"No," she replied honestly, "I was thinking of things."

Gustav smirked, shook his head and then gave Christine a gentle hug.


	9. Chapter 9

Christine was surprised that she was allowed to invite her own guests, although she only had two who actually wanted to come; one who was mandatory, since he would be giving her over to Erik. Her second guest, her best friend Meg, was with her in the changing room as Christine put on the finishing touches to her wedding attire - a silk veil and a pinch of lip gloss. Christine half-heartedly smiled at her reflection in the mirror and heard a soft knock at the door followed by, "It is only another woman."

Madame Giry, Meg's mother and the ballet coach at the opera house, was in charge of fixing any problems with Christine's gown. Ever since her father visited the opera, which was five years ago, Gustav became very good friends with Madame Giry and the old woman was almost like a second mother to Christine, "Oh, Christine. I remember when you were just a little girl. You're so grown up."

"I don't really want to do this, Madame. I really don't think I'm ready to leap into a relationship like this so quickly."

"You'll be a great wife, Christine. And judging by how much you nurture my daughter, an even greater mother."

The whole fact about mothering was still something that frightened, yet intrigued Christine. She wondered how a baby was able to leave any of the small openings of her body. Another knock, then a soft, male voice, "It is your father. May I come in?"

"Come in."

Christine took a deep breath as her father stepped in, tears coming to his eyes. He rushed over to her and observed her stance, her gown, the glow in her lovely features; though it was probably from crying her eyes out last night. He smiled, gently touching her cheek, "My little girl is no more. You will visit after you're wed, right?"

"I'm not going to forget about you overnight, father. I'm still your daughter."

"I know," Gustav smiled, taking her arm, "but it's time. You're property of your husband, now."

Christine nodded and took small steps to the door where each of them waited patiently. She heard the organ playing in the background and took a deep breath, knowing, this was the last time she would walk as a free woman. When the doors opened, the crowd stood; everyone gawked at her beauty. She felt different - like she wasn't herself anymore as she walked down the isle. Her father whispered silently, "Don't worry. You're just too beautiful."

She smiled, feeling her cheeks get hot as they approached the altar; now there was no going back. Gustav smiled, handing Christine to Erik and bowing to her. He earned the same from them both and took his seat in the front as the couple turned to each other. Erik grinned slightly, noticing that she was at her best this morning, "You are glorious," he gently whispered.

Christine smiled, feeling the heat of her cheeks intensify, "Dearly beloved," the priest spoke, "We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses, to join Monsieur Erik Muhlheim and Mademoiselle Christine Daaè in matrimony commended to be honorable among all; and therefore is not to be entered into lightly but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Into this - these two persons present now to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together - let them speak now or forever hold their peace," the room stayed silent, then the priest continued, "Proverbs 5: 18-19; 'May your fountain be blessed, and may you rejoice in the wife of your youth. A loving doe, a graceful deer- may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be captivated by her love'."

Christine looked nervously at Erik as the priest continued to speak of the definition of their marriage. She saw the ring barer come up, kneeling on one knee before them both, then Erik began to speak, "I, Erik Muhlheim, take you, Christine Daaè, to be my wife, my friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Christine took a deep breath, knowing that if she seemed unwilling during this it would be bad for her name, "I, Christine Daaè," she shivered, knowing that what she was about to say was something that would bind her to him forever, "I, Christine Daaè, take you, Er-Erik Muhlheim, to be husband, to have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward," she gulped, trying to raise her voice from its nervous shake, but to no avail, "until death do us part."

She subconsciously knew she was being stared at after all that. Then Erik, now confused by her sudden nervousness during her vows, grabbed his ring and placed it in the palm of her open hand. As the ring barer walked away, he continued, "I, Erik Muhlheim, give you, Christine Daaè, this ring," he gently slipped it onto her third finger, keeping it far enough away from her engagement ring, "as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you."

Christine tried to hold herself together for the rings exchange, but found it only more difficult as she took his left hand, "I, Christine Daaè, give you, Erik Muhlheim, this ring," she shakily slipped it onto his finger, keeping her eyes off the group, "as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you."

Erik took her took the edge of the altar and they lit a large candle, supposedly symbolizing the union of their families. They returned to the center, Christine now more calm, "And now," the priest said kindly, "by the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

It was probably the hardest part - a kissed shared in front of everyone. Christine shivered like a child as he came closer to gently peck her lips. As a kiss as it was, she still felt red hot with embarrassment, "I present to you Monsieur and Madame Muhlheim."

The applause was aggravating and Christine was more than happy that most of the guests wouldn't be coming to the luncheon directly after the marriage.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexuality in this chapter.

Christine was silent at the head of the table as Erik finished the day with announcements, just staring at her fork. She admired the intricate details on the handle and noticed two people stand, bowing and then leaving to their carriage outside. Christine stood quietly, helping Erik escort people out due to nightfall's long-awaited arrival. Her father was the last to leave and, elated from the one champagne offered to him during the evening, he gently patted Erik on the shoulder and, smiling, said, "Make a strong grandchild, you two."

Erik stared at her father as he stumbled out of the house, softly shutting the door behind him. Christine shook her head, turning towards the dining room to help the maid clean the dishes. She heard Erik's voice as she finished cleaning her plate, "Remind me to keep the champagne away from your father the next time he comes here."

"I'll try."

Christine finished the dishes and let the maid retire for the night with all of the other servants. She stepped into the hallway and couldn't find him, then thinking he should be upstairs because of their 'arrangements' for the night. She slowly crept towards the bedroom door, the open window letting a gentle breeze in that cooled all nervous tensions she had built up.

She stepped into his room, now part hers, and noticed his dress shirt and jacket laid on the chair in the corner of the room. Christine felt her lips slightly quiver and she heard a door open, forgetting about the lavatory inside the bedroom. She was now more nervous than ever; his half-naked body making her feel shameful. Christine had no initial reaction to the scars on his chest and when she did realize them she gently touched the rough surface.

She watched his eyes roam her still dressed body as if she was already in the nude, making her feel rather uncomfortable. Christine removed her hands, nibbling her bottom lip to subdue her words. Then, instead, Erik spoke, "I'm sorry we have to. I never intend to hurt you, though. You know that, right?"

Christine nodded, not entirely sure about the whole situation. She was high-voiced, yet quiet in her speech, "Does this mean I have to...undress?"

"You ask like you're ashamed of yourself. What's wrong?"

Christine knew he would probably feel otherwise, but she admitted, "I don't feel entirely comfortable in my own skin. I'll say that much."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing; he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world and yet, she was unworthy of herself. Erik removed his trousers, trying to make it more comfortable for her. Since he was almost entirely bare, he figured it would spare her shyness. She took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she reached back for the laces of her gown, "I'll help you."

Christine raised her hands to her chest to keep the fabric on as he untied her many laces, sucking her cheeks through the hollows of her teeth. She felt the back of her gown slide down and Erik returned to his place, carefully removing her hands from her chest to let the fabric fall to the floor. Christine gulped so that he could hear it, slowly stepping out of the pile of silk her gown and now her veil made on the ground.

Christine, though still in her undergarments, blushed due to her exposure. She felt Erik's hand ghost up to her collarbone and shivered as he came closer. She gasped as his hands rested on her waist, letting him kiss her. She wanted to stop already, but knew her duty as a wife to please her husband. When he finally let go, she felt the heat return to her cheeks and untied her petticoats, dropping them with her gown. Even more exposure.

She breathed deeply, feeling the effects of her nervousness change the way she felt about everything. Christine was more than scared about the idea of giving herself to him fully, even though it wasn't happening yet, "You'll be alright. I promise."

Erik was very gentle as he reached behind and began to loosen her corset. Christine shook hard, her shy, nervous nature making her feel strange and frightened. She bit her lip as she felt the fabric of her corset become loose and fall off her body. Before Erik could get a glimpse of her flesh, she instinctively covered herself with hers, shaking like a child with a cold.

She opened her eyes wide as he carefully removed her arms from her chest, "Relax," he said as her arms tensed, "I'm not going to judge you."

Christine bit her lip as she let him see, expecting ridicule for some reason. She took a deep, shaky breath and watched reaction become the opposite of what she expected. He practically worshipped her, softly running his work-hardened fingertips over each curve of her body. Christine was even more nervous for the removal of her bloomers as he untied the waistband and let them fall.

She had never felt more exposed in all her life than right now and knew that she was probably very red from the shyness she held. Christine closed her eyes as she felt his hands run lower on her, gently stroking the folds of flesh between her thighs. She whimpered at this new feeling, biting her lip so that she could stay put and not run out of the room frightened by this new thing.

His hand left her and she opened her eyes to see him take off his drawers, revealing something new to her sight. Christine gazed at the rigid thing below his navel, reaching up with curiosity. Erik gave a small whine when her hand landed on the top of his sex, her fingers drawing long lines downward, "We should start."

Christine gulped, nodding and removing her hand. As was traditional, he carried her bridal style towards the bed and laid her down like a princess. Erik handled her with care as he prepared her for the real thing, putting his thickest finger into her entrance. Christine bit the inside of her cheek as she felt herself being gently stretched opened. She was new to this, and yet somehow figured out that his finger wasn't the only thing going inside her.

After he let his finger sit in for a while, and he softly licked the entrance to her sex- which made her whimper at the feeling; it was so new and so strange a sensation. Erik moved away from her sex and gently kissed her lips, positioning himself at her maidenhead. Christine was anticipating the pain - It's only a little pinch, she reminded herself, that's all and then you're fine.

She took a deep breath, knowing she would be alright...hopefully, anyway. Then Erik pushed into her and she knew immediately her father and her husband were wrong. She let out a vicious cry, covering her face with her arms to let her tears flow freely. Christine removed her arms after a moment, Erik continuing afterwards.

She was unmoving, staring at the wall as he took her even though the pain was still present. Christine kept her arms at the side of her body as he gently touched each and every curve of her form. She shivered at his touch, still trying to get used to the swelling feeling inside of her as he continued to gently push her insides. Surprisingly, the pain had surpassed - but she refused the sudden urge to release a sound so vulgar that would describe enjoyment or pleasure.

Christine felt the swelling feeling turn into a type of warmth and then, Erik now shaking, she felt his hands grip her hips tightly - digging into her soft skin.

Christine was almost excited it was all over and she laid there, with emotions she couldn't understand, as he flipped over to his back. She looked to him for a moment and felt something strange in the pit of her stomach as he gently stroked her blushing cheek, "How are you feeling, lovely?"

She smiled half-heartedly, "Rather sore."

Erik smiled, letting go of her cheek to place a soft, lasting kiss on her lips. She gulped as he let go, warmth traveling higher to her face, "This might be strange, but...may I hold you?"

Christine nodded, letting him slowly inch close and wrap his arms around her waist. There was now no need for blankets due to the warmth radiating from his body to hers. Being held made her feel very special and she now understood the passion between married couples, "Goodnight, my angel," he whispered, "I'll love you always."


End file.
